


Summers on the Ocean

by westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist



Category: The West Wing
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-04-02
Updated: 2005-04-02
Packaged: 2019-05-30 17:27:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,397
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15101528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist/pseuds/westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist
Summary: It didn't matter if they were in the halls of one of the most powerful places on earth or with their toes in the sea.





	Summers on the Ocean

**Author's Note:**

> A copy of this work was once archived at National Library, a part of the [ West Wing Fanfiction Central](https://fanlore.org/wiki/West_Wing_Fanfiction_Central), a West Wing fanfiction archive. More information about the Open Doors approved archive move can be found in the [announcement post](http://archiveofourown.org/admin_posts/8325).

**Summers on the Ocean**

**by:** Messy Girl

**Character(s):** Josh, Mallory  
**Pairing(s):** Josh/Mallory  
**Category(s):** Romance, Vignette  
**Rating:** TEEN  
**Summary:** It didn't matter if they were in the halls of one of the most powerful places on earth or with their toes in the sea.  
**Author's Note:** I obviously don’t own anything to do with The West Wing, I just like to take them out of the box and play with them. I also don’t own Van Morrison, I just love the song “Brown Eyed Girl.”I have been intrigued with the backstories of the characters on the show, simply because we’re given enough to know what is going on, but not enough to leave us satisfied. So, here is an attempt of working off one of those backstories. I am a feedback addict, so please, please, drop me an email if you wish!

It was awkward when she first came back, the kind of awkwardness that isn’t enough to stop two people from talking, but the kind that makes that first conversation just a little bit forced. They stopped needing words though, because when you grow up with a person, they become a part of you, become intertwined as one soul, intrinsically understanding the other person, because you know yourself. They were, at the end of the long, hard road they have traveled together simply friends, for better or for worse. They both think about what could have happened if Josh hadn't gone away to Harvard or she hadn't gone to Italy to study for a year, if they really had thought more than a step ahead. Perhaps they would be married, perhaps not; there was no way to find that out now. They had talked about it once, but now it seemed a lifetime removed.

Josh thought that she looked just as beautiful as she had when they were growing up, and then he realized that she would always be beautiful, that is what first love does to you. Part of him was back to being fourteen and wanting to hold her hand, simply because he thought he was going to touch an angel. He remembered the way the freckles on her left shoulder blade formed perfectly mimicked the big dipper, the way she used to twirl and weave her long red hair in her long fingers that were always tipped in some outlandish shade of polish. He loved tracing her freckles when she was sunbathing down on Myrtle Beach. The Lymans and McGarry's went down there every summer for as long as either Josh and Mallory could recall. He could lay there for hours next to her, tracing the fine little specks, talking to her about anything, everything. They would lay and enjoy the sun and the sound of the ocean, wondering just what was going to become of them. Their lives were oceans, and at the moment it felt like they were only inches from the shores.

They had gone through everything together, and because of that, they had a bond that was far beyond their years. They went ice skating for the first time together when Josh was five and Mallory was four and their parents would tell stories of how Josh clung to Mallory out on the pond, terrified that a shark would come and get him. Then there was the time when Mallory was nine and nearly drowned out in her pool and Josh saved her. Mallory would give part of her Easter candies to Josh and he would give her some of his chocolate coins when Hanukah came. When Joannie died, Mallory sat next to him throughout the visitation, her little hand tucked in his, her head laid against his shoulder in the only act of comfort she could carry out. When Leo got drunk and yell hateful things at his daughter for stupid, trivial things, Mal would drive to Josh's house, sleep in his bed while he slept out on the living room couch. She was there when he got accepted into Harvard, he was there when she found out she was going to study abroad. They were each other’s firsts, and even now, years later, they didn't really regret it like so many others they knew often did.

She still thought of him as the best catch, the kind of guy that other girls hated you for going out with. She remembered how she loved his arrogance; how he was smarter than anyone her girlfriends were going out with. She would brag about his SAT scores and how he was going to the smartest, most handsome lawyer in all of Connecticut. Those were the days, when she lived in his shadow, partly as his friend, partly as his love interest, always as the one he could come to. She would sit out with him on the swing in the gazebo outside of his backdoor and watch him as he read some heavy tome. She remembered how he would put his feet in her lap and how she would play with his toes. Neither of them knew just what they were doing, all they knew were happy with each other and that was more than enough.

However, she never thought that they were going out, not until that night when everything suddenly became shockingly clear, and scandalously obscured at the same time. They had gone to his senior prom as friends, woken up as something more. It had been a lovely night, one of dancing, and Van Morrison, and swiped red wine right out of the bottle. They talked about getting married; after all, they were the perfect fit. They both had ambition and drive, their families got along, and they thought that they had a forever love. They had taken the step, and in the light of dawn, they could not think of anything other than being together forever, working all year in the city, only to live on the beach in the summer. They would built a little beach hamlet and spend everyday out in the sun and every night under the gentle cover of starlight.

It was a grand plan too, until they both went away. They never again came together like that, but they didn't find themselves lacking. They had letters, but soon those began to wane. Soon they drifted apart, propriety bringing them together every once and a while. It was in those moments that they both wondered what could have happened, but after a drunken kiss or two, one of them would always call it off and the other always understood. There was never a birthday card, however, that wasn’t sent, and they would make a point to call each other on July first, the day that their families would leave for Myrtle Beach. It was little things like that they couldn’t bring themselves to let go of, couldn’t manage to live without. 

They had grown up, and because of that, grown apart. Neither of them resented the other, because they were too fond of each other for that. Mallory had read somewhere that is what first love did to you; your identities became intertwined. They were both old for their ages, too mature to let shattered dreams come between them. Josh knew the worst of Mallory, and Mallory knew all the demons of Josh. Deep down they were still together like that, safe from the harsh realities that seemed all the harsher without the other to help bear the burden.

 He smiled and remembered all the good times that they had together, and she laughed her laugh and everything was like they were children again. He missed that laugh, and she missed those dimples; it had been too long for the both of them. They still had that easy repertoire of history that was indelible, that could smooth anything over in an instant.

“Hey, Brown Eyed Girl,” he says, his eyes lighting up 

“Hey there,” she says, winking

That was their song, “Brown Eyed Girl”, and that was their story and they were going to stick to it. Anything else would be to lose the last scrap of childhood that was pure and right and lovely, and that was something they could never do. It didn’t matter if they were in the halls of one of the most powerful places on earth or with their toes in the sea.


End file.
